7+ Best Christmas Poems For Family

Poems for Christmas – Christmas Poems For Family

In today’s world we are inundated with images of Christmas from the media. We are told that it is all about buying expensive gifts for each other. In today’s challenging economic times it is a tragedy that parents spend way more than they can afford to try to please their children. The sad truth is that, “money can’t buy you love”. A holiday is about the time spent together with loved ones. It is about gifts that come from the heart, and it is the about the thousands of years of tradition that mark the holiday season.

Mama’s Christmas Miracle By Kathy J Parenteau

Mama told me a story a long, long time ago, not like any that I’d ever heard,
all about a little girl mama used to know, how I remember every word.
Seems like a lifetime ago, though I remember it so well.
It was a Christmas Eve I’ll never forget as far as I can tell.
We were sitting at the kitchen table, it was only my mother and me.
I was dreaming of Christmas morning and all the presents under the tree.
Dad wasn’t doing that well and money was scarce that year.
Mama found a way of telling me without me shedding one tear.
She told me a story of a little girl and a Christmas long ago,
who came from far away, a place where it rarely snowed.
Santa was just a dream to her, but she believed so much inside,
that Christmas was going to be special, so she knelt by her bed and she cried.
“Lord, let Santa remember me if not just this one time.
I promise I won’t ask for much, maybe a dolly I can call all mine.”
She closed her prayer and thanked the Lord for all that she received.
She knew that Santa would really come if only she believed.
She wrote a letter to Santa, unfamiliar to most girls and boys.
Though her list was long and full, on it there were no toys.
Only things we take for granted, like new shoes or underpants,
hair bows for her sisters and gloves to warm her brothers’ hands.
At the bottom of her list she asked, if it not be too much,
for a brand new baby doll she could hold and love and touch.
Then Christmas morning came and she looked beneath her tree,
Not a present to be found as far as she could see.
She didn’t give up hope as she heard a knocking sound.
When she opened up her door, a great big box she found.
She called out to her mother and dad, brothers and sisters too,
She said, “My prayers were answered, there’s something in here for all of you.”
Her daddy got brand new boots, her mother new underpants, her sisters got beautiful hair bows, her brothers warm gloves for their hands.
Buried deep beneath the box was a brand new baby doll and a note that said, “Merry Christmas, I love you one and all.”
I’ll never forget that story because much to my surprise,
I saw the true meaning of Christmas shining in my mother’s eyes.
For those of you who are wondering, as if you didn’t know,
The little girl in Mama’s story was my mother long ago.

This poem is about a childhood memory I will never forget. God bless all the mothers in this world, and may all your Christmases be ones to remember.

First Christmas Without You By Jamie Cirello

The nights are long and cold, the sun is hardly around.
Christmas time is approaching, and snow will soon cover the ground.
Trees and lights are twinkling, stockings are being hung.
The Christmas spirit is all around, as carols are being sung.
This year Christmas is not the same, just a yearly memory.
This house is not a home anymore, because you are not here with me.
There will be sadness; there will be tears when we wake up on Christmas day,
For this will be the first without you, oh how I wish heaven was just a mile away.
As we sit around the Christmas tree, emotions will be sad,
Gifts for them, gifts for me, but none of them will say DAD.
All I want for Christmas is to see your smiling face,
I know it cannot happen because you are in a better place.
Please…DAD ring a bell for me on Christmas day,
So I will know you got your wings and that you are ok.
I am not looking forward to Christmas, but I know it’s something I have to live through.
I hope there is Christmas in heaven, because it is not the same here without you.

The Littlest Christmas Tree By Amy Peterson

The littlest Christmas tree
lived in a meadow of green
among a family
of tall evergreens.
He learned how to whisper
the evergreen song
with the slightest of wind
that came gently along.

He watched as the birds
made a home out of twigs,
and couldn’t wait till
he, too, was big.
For all of the trees
offered a home,
the maple, the pine, and the oak,
who’s so strong.

“I hate being little,”
the little tree said,
“I can’t even turn colors
like the maple turns red.
I can’t help the animals
like the mighty old oak.
He shelters them all
in his wide mighty cloak.”

The older tree said,
“Why, little tree, you don’t know?
The story of a mighty king
from the land with no snow?”
Little tree questioned,
“A land with no snow?”
“Yes!” said old tree,
“A very old story,
from so long ago.”

“A star appeared,
giving great light
over a manger,
on long winter’s night.
A baby was born,
a king of all kings,
and with him comes love
over all things.”

“He lived in a country
all covered in sand,
and laid down his life
to save all of man.”

Little tree thought of the gift
given by him,
then the big tree said with the
happiest grin,
“We’re not just trees,
but a reminder of that day
There’s a much bigger part
of a role that we play!”

“For on Christmas eve,
my life I’ll lay down,
in exchange for a happier,
loving ground.
And as I stand dying,
they’ll adorn me in trim.
This all will be done
in memory of him.”

“Among a warm fire,
with family and friends,
in the sweet songs of Christmas,
I’ll find my great end.
Then ever so gently,
He’ll come down to see
and take me to heaven,
Jesus and me.”

“So you see, little tree,
we are not like the oak
who shelters all things
beneath his great cloak.
Nor are we like the maple
in fall,
whose colors leave many
standing in awe.”

“The gift that we give
is ourselves, limb for limb,
the greatest of honor,
in memory of him.”

The little tree bowed
his head down and cried
and thought of the king
who willingly died.
For what kind of gift
can anyone give
than to lay down your life
when you wanted to live?

A swelling of pride
came over the tree.
Can all of this happen
Because of just me?
Can I really bring honor?
By adorning a home?
By reminding mankind
that he’s never alone?

With this thought, little tree
began singing with glee.
Happy and proud
to be a true Christmas tree.

You can still hear them singing
even the smallest in height,
singing of Christmas
and that one holy night.

Christmas Lesson By Julesies

Christmas is a special time
To give, to serve, to love
It isn’t just about yourself,
But others that you think of

The presents, the trees, the glowing lights
Are fun but have no part
In what the real meaning of Christmas is…
That is in your heart

Even if other people don’t,
You should try to do
The things that you would want
Them to do to you!

The holidays are a busy time
But they are sometimes good
Because they keep you thinking
About others like you should

So this year, try to not think about yourself
But think of the things you can do
To help others have a wonderful Christmas
And you will find that you will be happy too

Merry Christmas, Mom By Mary Butto

For all of the presents
You put under the tree,
For all of the times
You picked up after me…

For all of the times
That you tucked me in tight
And we stayed up to talk
Long into the night

For all of the days
I was feeling so down
And the times that you turned
To a smile my frown

For the cookies you baked
And the stockings you stuffed,
For the cuts that you healed
And the pillows you fluffed…

For the time that you took
Off the training wheels
For the nights that you made me
My favorite meals

For the years throughout
Elementary school
For knowing the right thing
Isn’t always what’s cool

For putting up with
Those preteen years
For making it through
All the laughs and the tears

For all of the days
That you loved me so much
Even during the times
That I made it so tough…

For all of the memories
We have already shared
For the future for which
We cannot be prepared

For being there for that one-year-old boy
Who sat in the house and sucked on his thumb
For working so hard at being his mom
And making that boy into the man I’ve become
Look back on all that we have been through
And look at me now mom, how far I have come

For all of the times I’ll never forget
Merry Christmas to you, Mom
Here’s to the memories
We haven’t had yet

Merry Christmas…Love, Nick

Christmas Bells By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Till ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And in despair I bowed my head;
“There is no peace on earth,” I said;
For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men.”

‘Twas The Night Before Christmas By Clement Clarke Moore

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer,
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blixen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too–
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.
His eyes–how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight–
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”